Spin the Dawn(35)

I pushed his hand away and started for my table. Behind Norbu, Longhai passed me a sympathetic look, but he didn’t speak up.

I couldn’t blame him. Norbu was a famous tailor and a powerful man; I was no one. Except for Edan, who would believe that he’d broken my hand? Still, now I knew Norbu was using magic. It didn’t give me power over him, but it made me determined to beat him.

Norbu called after me, “I take it you are ambidextrous.”

I ignored him, sifting through the remains of my station. A fallen Sage had smashed my wooden screen, but my loom was intact. My embroidery frame was ruined.

I bent to retrieve my cane. The fire had singed its wood, but it was still usable. Leaning on its familiar support, I picked up one of my spools, still warm to the touch. Edan had said it would take time for my hand to heal, but even holding a spool of thread was painful. Using my good hand, I bundled together the few things that had survived.

“Longhai and Yindi found their jackets outside,” Norbu said. He’d followed me, of course. “And yours. Some good soul must have tried to save them.”

“It’s a good thing you put your jacket aside, Norbu,” I said through my teeth. “Otherwise, all your hard work might have been ruined in the fire.”

“The gods watch over me,” Norbu said, pressing his hands together. “I am very grateful.”

I snorted loudly enough for him to hear. “You sabotaged us.”

Norbu straightened, looking shocked. “Excuse me?”

“You started the fire,” I said. “I heard you outside—”

“I think it more likely you started the fire, Master Tamarin,” Norbu interrupted. “You were the only one working late, after all. And your jacket is practically unscathed.”

“Me?” I nearly shouted. “You—”

Longhai touched my shoulder and shook his head.

“First you accuse me of breaking your hand, now of starting the fire.” Norbu sighed. “I know you must be angry, young Tamarin, but that does not give you the right to slander my name. I will forgive you this time, since the night has taken its toll on everyone.” He paused. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to work.”

With that, he left me alone with Yindi and Longhai.

“I’m sorry,” I said, drawing a sharp breath when I saw how badly burnt their jackets were. My efforts to save them had been in vain. “I tried to—” I stopped, startled by the sound of Yindi angrily tearing his jacket in half.

Longhai barely flinched. Defeat stung his eyes.

“Don’t,” I said, putting my hands over Longhai’s jacket before he, too, gave up. “You still have half the night.”

“I know when to bow out gracefully,” he replied. “It’s something you learn with age.”

“Norbu started the fire,” I whispered. “I know it. You can’t let him win.”

Longhai’s wide shoulders fell. “I already knew it was him.”

My brows furrowed. “How?”

“His clothes reeked of smoke even though he said he’d been nowhere near,” Longhai said. He swept a pile of ash with his foot. “How did you know?”

I thought about the hawk’s piercing cry—how it had sounded like a warning. But who would believe me if I told them that?

I coughed from the smoke, covering my mouth with my sleeve. “I’d gone out to get fresh air, then I saw the smoke. I rushed in to get your jackets…and I saw Norbu just outside the hall.”

“I’m going to admit defeat. Yindi will too.” Longhai eyed my bandaged hand. “And you should as well.”

“You can’t give up without trying,” I implored him. “Maybe Emperor Khanujin will postpone the trial. You can’t let Norbu win.”

“Norbu is a man with two faces,” Longhai said. “I thought he had changed, but he is as ruthless as before. Do you know how Master Huan died, Keton?”

I shook my head.

“The servants found him drowned in the river just outside Niyan. Everyone assumed he fell into the river because he was drunk.” He hesitated, and the grooves on his face deepened. “But I knew Master Huan. He never drank, not while he was the imperial tailor. He was poisoned.”

I caught my breath. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Longhai said. “But Norbu was the last man seen with him.”

He sighed, and I realized I had misjudged his friendship with Norbu.

“I’ve been trying to get it out of him the past few weeks, but the sly dog won’t talk.” He turned to me. “You’ll learn that certain things aren’t worth the trouble. I have my business and my family, and I will not risk my reputation for the sake of any contest. And you—you are young. Come with me and become my apprentice. You could make a good name for yourself. But you’ll have no future if Norbu does that to your hand again.”

His offer was tempting, but I hung back.

“I’m staying,” I said firmly. “I can’t let him win.”

“Then Amana be with you.” He gripped my shoulder. “May the Sages give you the strength to win.”

Yindi had been quiet throughout our exchange, but now he walked up to us. His eyes were wide and wild. “The fire is a sign from the gods to leave. Nothing good will come of this wedding.”